I'm Not Calling You A Liar: Extras
by bkgrl
Summary: Extras from I'm Not Calling You A Liar, including: name analysis, teasers, drabbles etc
1. Name Analysis: Freq update

**Name Analysis for all Major and Minor characters in "I'm Not Calling You A Liar"**  
Will be updated frequently: warning mild spoilers below

_**Hunters**_

**Lyanna**- Light. Although the name itself is Greek, its original origins are Hebrew. It's a form of the name Liora, which also means light in Hebrew. Alternative meanings of this name are Gracious or Gift from God. Gracious would lead into Hannah and Anne's name meanings. Gift from God- I don't have to explain this, although I think this is a gift he'd rather not ever receive and Light- she is the one that started it all. The first bright spot in this dark little world.

**Hannah**- Grace. This name is also Hebrew. In the Hebrew tradition Hannah was the mother of Samuel the prophet. She was one of two wives and was barren until she was blessed and had Samuel. Samuel was the first in rabbinical literature to bridge the gap between Hebrew judges and the major prophets. Hannah is the first hunter born from Lyanna's line and is the first to harshly judge Niklaus especially with his reoccurring hallucinations and her comments in general and specifically Tatia. She'll prophesier things to Niklaus that will come to fruition years afterwards. As Samuel signified a branching in his family line, Hannah signifies the first branch in our line of Hunters. Hannah is also our first religious hunter that brings up the pesky questions about God, which will forever annoy Niklaus and play heavily later against his issues with needing to always be in control and obvious God like complexes.

**Anne**- full of grace or gracious. Anne is a form of the name Hannah. It is also therefore Hebrew. Anne is the mother of Mary in the Old Testament. Things Anne says to Niklaus will be revisited during Niklaus's time with Mary. The meaning of Anne's name: grace, is significant because of the effect she has on Niklaus. Even though she's rotting in her own filth and illness when he meets her, he's struck by how much grace she has even in her passing.

**Lyanna** (1492) - Light. The real meaning of this name comes into fruition with this Lyanna. This of course is a throwback to comments made in TVD; something to the effect that Caroline was "Full of light". She is the first reincarnation that Niklaus loves. In the chapters there are multiple references made to the effect she has on him and how he thinks of her as light. In fact he even refers to her as Lucifer- which of course is translated as barrier of light. The context of her name can be viewed many ways. She's the first girl to really enlighten Niklaus on life and its meaning. She's also the first girl that seems to give him any hope or purpose beyond just breaking the curse. Her effect on Niklaus will change how he views every reincarnation afterwards. Also the fact that this name is Greek plays back on earlier reference to Venus and Adonis.

**Christine**- follower of Christ. Latin, the context of which is clear from her storyline.

**Ruth-** Friend or compassion. Hebrew, again the context of this name will mean more and be clear from her storyline and the effect she has on Niklaus.

**Mary-** bitter. Hebrew, the meaning of her name speaks greatly to the effect she has on Niklaus, especially in the events of her death. Mary is also the last girl before another crucial turning point in our reincarnations.

**Nataline**- Christ's birthday. Italian, this references back to Mary and again a change in the reincarnations' relationships with Klaus. As in Judeo Christian history the birth of Christ would have changed the course of history so Nataline relationship with Klaus.

**Emily-** Rival, emulating. Latin, the meaning behind this name will become clear as her relationship with Rebekah plays out. Also the meaning of this name really plays into the beginning of a complicated relationship with Klaus and Stefan as well as things that will  
happen with her time with Klaus and her purpose for being in Chicago at that time that she was.

**Caroline- **Joy, Song of Happiness, or some translations Free Man. Its Scottish and German in origin. Didn't pick this name but interestingly enough it works. Free Man... I mean come on now.

_**Other names**_

**Shae**- Supplanter. Hebrew, a supplanter is a person that takes over or takes the place of someone else, usually on purpose. It's used in context often with a usurper. As the child that begins the line of Doppelgangers, this is self explanatory.

**Neda-** Voice, call or dew. Farsi. In Hebrew dew is used as symbolism of a blessing. Neda births Lyanna which begins the entire story for 996 AD Lyanna, the original that starts the Caroline reincarnations. Neda has Lyanna, which may or may not be a blessing for dear Klaus.

**Noah- **Comfort, consolation. Hebrew, this one is obvious. Lyanna always wanted Nikalus and she gets Noah kind of as her consolation. However, she does love him in the end as they run together and find comfort in one another. Again, Noah in rabbinical literature ushered in the new world order with the flood (moving across the ocean), saving the creatures from complete destruction as God attempted to wipe out the wicked. Self explanatory.

**Laveda- **Wisdom. Latin, she's the witch that imparts insightful thoughts on Hannah. She tells her that she's special and makes her promise to tattoo her girls.

**Isa**- God's plan or as I intended, it's a form of the name Isam. Isam meaning protector or pledge of security.

**Constance**- steadfastness, Latin.

**Nicomedes**- Victory, scheme. Latin, this is the priest that wrote the letter to Anne that Niklaus kept over the years. He serves as a cog in the wheel of the overall scheme to keep the hunters or Hannah's relatives safe from the thing (Niklaus) that hunts them.

**Lilly**- form of the name Lily. English, it means purity. Although Lilly is far from pure in the story (after Kol is done with her) her name speaks more to the effect she has on Kol and really the innocence that her character has overall.

**Nathaniel**- gift of God. Hebrew, in the bible he was one of the apostles. He was also a good friend of Philip, (see Abbey analysis for further break down). This is a play on words. Nathaniel is never actually in the story he's only spoken of in flashbacks or in reference to Lyanna. However as the Lyanna symbolism gets heavy into Niklaus's God complex, Nathaniel's name meaning is more in reference to what his death means. His presence at all is what keeps Lyanna at Greyshaw. She marries Nathaniel and stays. Because she stays and later Nathaniel dies, Katerina is sent to Lyanna. With Katerina's arrival, Niklaus is drawn to Scrathclyde and eventually drawn into his damning relationship with Lyanna. Again this plays back into Klaus's God complex and imaginary fight for supremacy. He doesn't believe in any God but at the same time he acknowledges the possibility at the end of this chapter, which plays back into his defeat. His life brings Lyanna, his death brings Katerina, a gift from God to Niklaus. One wrapped in poisonous defeat.

**Elspeth-** Vow. Scottish, she adopts Lyanna and takes care of her, beginning the entire 1492 debacle.

**Edmure- **Form of the name Edmund which means prosperous protection. Its French and as Lyanna's real father, its implications should be clear. Since she was meant to inherit Harte Manor, truly the whole question of whether she's really a Lady and her legitimacy in keeping Greyshaw, her rights in relation with the pack and their claim on that land is a moot point. Furthermore it makes for an interesting connection at the end of Lyanna's story and what happens to Harte Manor in relation with Greyshaw.

**Arthur**- Stone or in some interpretations bear. Popularized in the English language, rooted in Irish tradition, Arthur is our wolf pack leader... who wants the fake moonstone. Enough said.

**Ines**- form of the name Innes, meaning one choice. She chooses not to tell Klaus all that she knows and can see of our hunters and their relationship with Niklaus.

**Simon- **To hear. Hebrew, as Klaus's compelled spy at Greyshaw Manor that reports back the events of the house and the comings and goings of the ladies, he becomes an important little informant.

**Claire**- bright. French, the woman that popularized this name was the founder of a Franciscan order of nuns and one of the notable saints of the medieval period. This touches on Christine and the origins of Claire's story.

**Father Hall- **Covering, conceal. Middle English, he conceals his suspicions about about Lyanna's paternity for many years. Then after Lyanna weds and Emdure dies, he again doesn't reveal what he knows until its much too late to make a difference.

**Emil**- Rival, eager, laborious. Latin, he is the man that attempts to seduce Lilly at the ball.

**Lord Morris**- Scottish and English in origin. Dark or Darkness.

**Neil-** Lord Morris's first name. Gaelic, Passionate.

**Lord Bosse**- French or German. Form of Bose, meaning quarrelsome man.

**Irvin-** Lord Bosse's first name. Gaelic, meaning green (as in jealousy).

**Auriel**- Roman, means golden, for the gold used to purchase female slaves

**Kaelan**- Gaelic meaning uncertain

**Catullo**- Latin meaning uncertain

**Bram**- Scottish, English meaning raven, a symbol used for death and destruction

**Bedell- **Old French, messenger

**Jacan-** Hebrew, trouble


	2. Excerpt: Kol 1776

Note if you want to die of feels, read this and then listen to David Gray- Other Side, theme song of this excerpt. I'm not responsible lol.

* * *

Austria

1776 AD

He could see it, the fading. The aging process sped up a thousand fold. Each minute that passed her skin would become less taught, wrinkles forming, her hair turning, slowly changing from its rich black, thick texture to a thinning grey.

"Lilly, you will be fine. We've done this before," he comforted both himself and her.

He could go back to the witches, he'd do whatever it took, mass genocide if needed. He'd burn their homes to the ground if they refused. Line them up one by one and slaughter their children in front of them until they were ankle deep in mud created from their own tears. He held no loyalties to anyone anymore.

Only Lilly and he'd do whatever it took to keep her.

"This time it's different Kol…" the youthful timbre that had always been in her voice before was now gone.

"No, I'll make them Lilly," he swore. Her head leaned against the high back chair.

She closed her eyes, a chill creeping under her skin as her circulation weakened with advancing age. "You'll do nothing of the sort."

She was always this way when they'd reach this point, always willing to let go. It was just because she was feeling weak, reconciled for only a moment. But he could bring her back. He'd done twice before.

He crouched before the chair taking her hand now covered in age spots: his Lilly, wilting before him.

"Look at me, Lil." She opened her eyes to find him staring up at her desperate, ready to plead, not caring how pathetic he may look.

"You'll live."

"Not this time, Love."

"Don't say that!" He barked, dropping her hand. He stood, pacing the room. There wasn't much time. He could hear her heart slowing. Maybe if he left now he'd have an hour or so to go to the witches. If she fought it, they would have enough time.

"I have to go Lil," he grabbed his over coat that had been slung over the nearest chair, making his way hastily to the door.

"Kol… Kol!" she called out, stopping him.

"Don't go. I don't want to die alone."

Angered by her lack of fight, he hissed exasperatedly, "You won't die, Lilly."

Ignoring him, she continued, "Come here…."

Against his better judgment he turned from the door, back to her side.

"Down here," she coaxed, smiling, holding her hand up to him.

On his knees in front of her, she leaned forward, taking his face between the pads of her fingers, "I want you to be the last thing I see."

"Lilly-"

The corners of her eyes wet she looked down at him with more love than Kol had ever experienced in his existence and ever would again. They'd had over two hundred years with one another. More happiness than Kol knew he deserved. She'd given him multiple lifetimes of peace and belonging.

He couldn't give it up now.

"Kol, I am tired."

"It will be better once I bring the witch."

"No, Kol… I won't."

"If you loved me enough you would fight," he snapped bitterly.

It was possibly the most selfish thing he'd ever said to her. The witches had warned him time again that this would happen. Soon enough, the spells wouldn't work. They'd fade quicker than before and each new time she was respelled it would be more painful, taxing than the last.

She smiled, a tear dripped from the corner of her eye, slipping over her cheek, "I love you enough to brave hell."

"Then stay…" he softly begged. "Just a little longer, Lil… please…." He kissed the palm of her hand that held him, "Please… please" he whispered with each kiss. "Don't leave me."

"Oh Kol," she tugged at his chin so he'd look at her, "Is that what you think I'm doing? Leaving you?"

He wouldn't answer, busy fighting back all the emotions he was afraid were soon to burst forth if she continued this any longer.

"I'm not leaving you. It is only for a short time. I'll be waiting for you."

He buried his face again into her hand. It was a lie. Why couldn't she see that? There was no God or afterlife. There was only this, what they had and then a cold, dark, lonely place in the ground.

Even if there was a God, heaven and hell, he'd never see her again. Creatures like him couldn't have that.

Knowing what he was thinking, she leaned even closer, her lips on his ear, "You are too hard on yourself."

She could feel his tears blotting into the thin skin of her hand.

Even if what he thought was true. If she was right and there was an afterlife and Kol was damned, it didn't change a thing.

She'd follow him anywhere. Even into the depths of hell.

"I'll find you," she whispered, her warm words sending chills down his spine, "I swear it. I could never forget you," her promise from almost three hundred years before.

He couldn't do this. Not now. "Lilly, I swear things will be different. I could change…." He pandered.

She laughed, "Change? Why would you think I would want you to change?"

Almost three centuries together and she'd thought they'd been through this. She'd thought she'd proven him wrong enough times. He was a good a person. He was worthy of being loved, appreciated, someone remembering him forever.

"You haven't done anything wrong, Love."

Hadn't he? He'd killed thousands in his existence. He'd destroyed more lives than he could ever hope to remember. Was this his punishment for it all? Loneliness? Loss? He'd take it all back.

Her nose ran along his jaw line, nuzzling him.

"It's time Kol…. I can feel it and I know you can as well."

No he refused to admit to that. It wasn't time. It would never be time.

"I miss her, Kol…. I miss her so terribly."

_Was he not enough?_ His mind screamed childishly. Could he not fill the gap that was Lyanna Lockwood, her previous family?

"When I go…."

"Shh…" he begged, the grief collecting in the back of his throat, choking him. He felt like he was drowning and all he wanted to do was hold on a little longer. Just a while longer. Could he not have a few moments longer?

She kissed his cheek, leaning back she pulled his head into her lap, fingers running through his hair as she continued, "When I go, I want you to take me back…."

_No! _His mind screamed. He'd keep her close. He'd find a witch that could do the correct spell. He'd find a way to bring back and keep her.

"Bury me in the ruins, by the south wall, the one that overlooks the woods."

"No, I won't leave you there alone."

Her hand had begun to slow its strokes, breaths becoming considerably shallow. Her pulse was lulling from a hum to a soft thumping.

"I won't be, Love…." She took a slow deep breath, eyes closing.

_Lyanna stood in the sun, her hair blowing in the wind. She called to Lilly, laughing, smiling, and alive. Hand held out for her to take, inviting her to follow as she walked through the rows of plants: their garden, their home, Greyshaw. _

"She's waiting for me," Lilly breathed, warmed by the image. Knowing she would be there soon.

She was talking about forever, leaving him forever. What would he have with Lilly gone? What would be the point of it all? Running from Niklaus, keeping her secret and their life…. How he loved their life together. He would have given them all up: Elijah, Finn, Klaus, and Rebekah. All of them for eternity if it meant he could go back and do it all again with Lilly. From the moment he found her.

He sat up; pulling her close, trying to be gentle about it, before kissing her. Somewhere knowing that it would be the last time, but he couldn't accept that. His mind wouldn't allow that thought to even permeate into his consciousness.

"Lilly, I don't want to live without you," he confessed.

She kissed him again, softly. This was it. She knew it. She could feel it coming on last night, for weeks but she didn't tell him. She couldn't give him that much warning because he'd find a way. He always did. And damn him, she loved him for that.

She'd only held on this long for him, because she knew he needed it, "Hush… You won't," she whispered, smoothing hair back from his forehead with her unsteady hand.

The woman he'd loved for three hundred years was gone now, an old woman in her place. But he didn't care. Kol didn't see wrinkles, age spots, or grey hair. All he saw was Lilly. The Lilly he'd met close to three centuries ago in the Garden of Eden. Same brown eyes, same spirit.

"What we have…" she promised, taking a long last few breaths, "It doesn't die…."

"Lilly?" he called out desperately as her body started to go heavy in his grasp, slumping back in the chair. He should have gone for the witches. He should have seen this coming.

Kol's mind raced as her hands started to go cold.

"Lilly…" he pleaded.

Eyes closing she could feel it. The sun warm on her skin and Lyanna's laughter filling her ears, as she spoke her last word to Kol, "Soon," leaving him with the promise that they'd meet again: her soul slipping from this world into the next.

"Lilly? Lilly?!" he yelled, shaking the corpse, pushing thin strands of hair from her face.

"Lilly, please!" his voice cracked, as he wrenched her forward but she gave no response.

She was gone. Pulling her on top of him, her lifeless body slumped awkwardly between him and chair as Kol rocked back and forth. No air, no sounds as he pulled her so tight to him she could have been a second skin. His hand brushed over her the back of her head, fingers knotting themselves in her hair in complete grief.

A choked noise, reverberated off the walls, followed by a soft cry before Kol broke down completely. Lost to the world, lost to everything he held Lilly on his knees, cradling her long past her body going cold.

In that moment, he'd lost everything he had. The only home he knew and would ever know. Nothing could fill the terrible emptiness that spread through him in an instant. None of it would ever be the same.

He'd remember her. He'd never forget her. Lilly was all Kol knew, or ever wished to know.


	3. Excerpt: Stebekah 2011

Mystic Falls

2011 AD

He danced with her, for the entirety of thirty seconds, to the song by The Cure, before retiring back to behind his table. It was sad really, her dancing around in her bowler hat and Koala corsage. The music of this generation was mediocre, filled with angst. And Stefan seemed to be paying her no more attention than what was absolutely necessary for him to appear as if he were interested.

_Boys of Summer_ blared over the speakers, as Rebekah continued to kick the red balloons around the gym floor.

_**I never will forget those nights, I wonder if it was a dream.**_

"I've met Don Henley," he called out. As if she knew or cared who he was_._

Please let this not be another story about him and Lexi. She couldn't take one more. For a man that was trying to manipulate a White Oak Stake from her, he was going about it in all the wrong way. She'd expected something a little grander, perhaps a speech about some mysterious recovered feelings- no memories rather, from their time together in 20s.

She'd thought that he'd attempt to recant his earlier remarks of disinterest or at the very least, dance with her for more than a minute. Instead he diddled away on his little machine or plied her with stories about some dead female vampire that he'd had a sexless relationship with throughout the whole of the last nine decades.

They never used to be this way. Sometimes she didn't know what was worse, the fact that he had forgotten most of their time together (that it probably only came back to him in brief flashbacks) or that she'd remembered, when he'd been spared. Even in a box for the past ninety years, it had stung.

She was always too sentimental. Just below her lovely façade of crazy, ruthlessness, (no rather, selfishness) there was always the seventeen year old girl, for the past 900 years now a woman, waiting for a time when it would be right. When she'd care for someone and it wouldn't be a mistake.

As she looked over at Stefan, she could hear the shallow notes of blues drifting through her mind, over the guitar reverberating off the gym walls. She could smell the aftershave he'd worn ninety years ago and still remember the smile he'd give her the morning after, what he smelled like on her sheets.

_**Remember how you made me crazy? Remember how I made you scream? I don't understand what happened to our love?**_

But as clearly as she could remember what he was spared, she was reminded of how it felt when she'd come back from death to find that he'd moved onto some pathetic little girl, the shadow of her brothers' doppelgangers. Would she never be free of Tatia and the damn curse she'd put upon their entire family? It wasn't fair. But then again, nothing ever was.

"What did you find to drink?" she questioned, bored.

He held out the bottle, not even bothering to look up from his task.

Did he really have to do that? Was that his plan: to avoid her all night? Make her think that he cared enough to be there but somehow find a way to not actually have to spend any time with her? Rebekah didn't know what was worse; this believing her to be stupid enough to fall for his little farce or the fact that she so badly wanted it to be real.

_Come now, Stefan, _she thought, _At least try to pretend._

"Black Velvet?" a disgusted, skeptical look passed over her face.

"It was all I could find."

Opening the bottle she smelled the contents- her first reaction was well placed. It reminded her of modern day cleaning products. But who was she to be picky? If they were going to continue this charade, should she not at least have a drink?

Henley crooned in the background: _Babe I'm gonna get you back, I'm gonna show you what I'm made of…_

She rolled her eyes, taking pulls from the bottle as if it were water. Stefan's attempts at feigning indifference over his lost little, brunette pop tart was pathetic, his desperation palpable- even in his song choices.

"Lexi loved the Eagles…"

Rebekah groaned, taking another pull from the bottle. There wasn't nearly enough left to sustain her through another trip down Stefan's memory lane. Could they not just spend time together without him babbling about some other woman? Part of her was, at the very least, relieved that it wasn't Caroline. She'd had suffered through Hannah, Nataline and then Emily, listening to her brothers' continuous battles with the hunters. Was it not enough that she had to tolerate their obsession with the doppelgangers?

He was about to continue when she interrupted him, "What was so special about this Lexi anyhow?"

As she felt the warm rush from the cheap liquor rush through her veins, she closed her eyes, her head dropping back, arms fanned out.

Yes, this is what she wanted: more of this. Rebekah wanted to forget. Have a moment of peace that didn't revolve around saving or killing the women of her brothers' past. A short while when she could just be free. Where something, anything, could be about her, even if Stefan wasn't a willing participant.

"Take your pick."

_That's it Stefan, keep yammering on. Just be a little quieter about it, if you please. _Drowning him out, she continued her private dance party. To hell with Kol and Klaus, their little struggle for control. She had the headstone and therefore all the time in the world.

Stefan could go to hell as well, with his exhausting newfound personality, his obsession with Elena and friendship with Caroline. She didn't need any of it.

"She was crazy, she did whatever came to mind. She was unapologetic. She just didn't give a shit about what anyone thought."

Her hat slid further down her forehead, her hair no longer looking pristine. Rebekah didn't give a shit about what anyone thought. She'd get to the cure long before Klaus. She'd watch him pander to her, instead of the other way around. She'd take it and not care anymore about how any of them felt about it.

So what if he thought she was weak, if they all thought she was weak: Klaus, Kol and even Elijah, although he'd never say it. She'd be free of them, free of it all. And she wouldn't look back.

"We met in '23," Stefan continued. She hadn't even noticed it, but he'd stopped tinkering with his toy, instead watching her as she danced like she didn't have an audience. Eyes closed, feet kicking at the balloons, bottle dangling from her finger tips.

This was how he remembered her. Whatever mess of flashbacks he had left of that year they'd had together, most of them good, many quite unredeemable by his new moral code, he'd still always get a strange feeling when jazz filtered through the back of his mind. The image of Rebekah swaying to every note, the feeling of her lips on his neck, foreheads pressed together, illegal gin and whiskey pumping through their veins with fresh blood.

She was right, they hadn't cared then. They drank too much, killed too easily and screwed like it was their last day on earth. He remembered it, feeling free and everything being so blissfully uncomplicated. When Katherine was an afterthought, Elena wasn't even an egg and his life made sense. He acted on instincts. He was finally living without the curse of Damon following behind him, trying to defile everything he touched, ruin Stefan's life, just so he could feel a little better about himself.

He and Rebekah would go rounds with each other, then, without hesitation or excuse. They indulged every fantasy and desire the other had. And afterward, there was never shame, never the need for apologies. When they fought, it was vicious and when they made up it was worth it to look forward to their next spat. He never worried about Rebekah being hurt too easily, because he knew she could and would snap him as quick as he'd try her.

"Is that so?" she mumbled, clearly not listening.

She never was great at hiding her feelings, maybe just because she didn't bother. Why lie, when you thought you were invincible? Or perhaps that was just Rebekah? She'd never bothered to lie to him then and she didn't now.

He couldn't always remember but part of him knew they were in love back then. They may have never said it but Rebekah surely didn't forget and the Stefan that was a little less repressed, weigh laid with guilt and Elena's never ending disappointment in him, hadn't forgotten it either.

"Yeah, she reminded me of someone."

At the time he hadn't remember whom; but Lexi always gave him a terrible feeling of déjà vu. One that for the entirety of their time together, he'd never been able to place but it always left him with a sense that something was missing. Although he'd fostered their friendship, there had never been anything more, except for once, in the winter of '87, New York after a Knicks game. He'd kissed her as they pushed through throngs of postgame patrons. It was quick and Lexi laughed it off thinking it a high after watching their team win. He'd never told her he did it because he felt he had to, that if he didn't he'd always wonder why it felt like it would be natural to do so. In the end it didn't feel natural. It was awkward and suddenly very misplaced.

However watching Rebekah, the nostalgia was back: the 20s, Lexi and that kiss. He had kissed her, because she reminded him of Rebekah. Only when it happened he knew it then, even though he couldn't remember why, that his friend wasn't the right blond.

It was annoying how his life seemed to consist of chasing the memory of someone before, then trying to justify his intentions later. He'd convinced himself whatever feelings he had for Elena had nothing to do with Katherine. Stefan rationalized that his connection with Caroline in the beginning was simply misplaced grief over Lexi, only later to realize it was Emily. And now it occurred to him that every inclination he'd ever had of being drawn to Lexi revolved around lingering forgotten memories of Rebekah.

_**A little voice in my head said don't look back you can never look back. I thought I knew what love was, what did I know? Those days are gone forever. I should just let them go.**_

"This song isn't that terrible," she responded, only to have her comments met with a prompt change in the playlist, as U2's _All I Want is You_, picked up where Don Henley left off.

Taking the bottle from her, he eyed the quarter that was left of the nearly full bottle he'd taken from the teacher's lounge. "You never were one for sharing."

She spun, tartly replying, "I was parched during story time."

"Nice to know I had an attentive date."

She laughed, as they passed the bottle back and forth between them, "Is that what this is?"

"What else would you call it?" Leaving him the bottle, her head dropped, feet sliding on the old wooden floors as she attempted to find a rhythm with the off pace song.

"A distraction."

"A distraction? From what?" Stefan was always a terrible liar. With her back turned to him, she smiled.

_Oh, so we are still continuing this game? s_he thought, internally snickering. "Whatever it is that is happening outside this gym that you likely don't want me to know about."

Setting the empty bottle on the ground, his leather jacket crackled as he reached out, catching her arm while she still awkwardly tried to dance to the chorus.

"Here, you're doing it wrong," he corrected.

Turning, he guided her arms up around his neck, almost mechanically before pulling her closer, hands on hips. "This song is meant to be a slow dance."

She looked at him unimpressed, inwardly smirking, _So this was his plan? A sappy slow dance, in an empty high school gym? _It seemed children like Elena had ruined his creativity. The little doppelganger, likely would have swooned at something so pathetically clichéd.

They'd tried dancing together earlier but it was strange, too familiar. He had to stop. This is why he didn't dance anymore. '22 at Gloria's Bar they used to all night long. After he left Chicago it was never the same again; dancing felt forced, uncomfortable. When Elena would beg him at school functions, he'd complied because he knew she wanted it so badly and if he didn't, Damon would be more than willing to step in.

Dancing with Rebekah was beyond uncomfortable, so unnerving because it was natural. Years of forgotten muscle memory, making him remember a little too keenly how things were between them, making it all that much more difficult to try to kill her later.

_"_Why would you think I was trying to distract you?"

"I haven't quite decided at the moment, but there is one thing I'm sure of…."

"Yes and what is that?"

"Whatever it is, it somehow, someway, involves Elena."

"Can I not do something that isn't motivated by Elena?"

Warily she looked at him, "No Stefan."

"And why is that?I thought we weren't caring anymore."

"We?" Rebekah laughed, "There is no 'We' here Stefan. This only further proves my point."

"Which is….?"

"Everything you do somehow revolves around some woman. First there was Katherine and your entire Ripper phase, which I rather preferred and then for a time, me. Which you quickly forgot thanks to my brother. From your incessant stories, I would guess this Lexi for a while; perhaps even Caroline at times, but now, most certainly Elena."

She didn't mention Emily, he noted. Perhaps his memories of her were distorted or more likely Rebekah chose to believe it never happened. Regardless, the existence she painted was pathetic but even in his semi state of denial, he recognized as true.

"You never asked, who Lexi reminded me of," he prompted, changing topics.

"You'll have to excuse me; I blacked out the last ten minutes of your stories."

She was such a bitch sometimes. That he'd missed, if he was honest with himself. The bite followed by a kiss.

"Are you not curious?"

No, she wasn't because it would likely lead to another story she'd be forced to listen to without the aid of Black Velvet. Another woman from Stefan's past that he clung to for dear life, elevated to saintly prestige.

"This song is quite long."

"Six minutes…" he answered, before continuing, "So you're not interested at all?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyhow."

He choked back the urge to say something equally as snide, parts of his memory remembering their fights from years ago, how they began and how they'd always end. But they'd already had their ending last night.

"You," he replied to his begrudging audience.

What did it matter anyhow if he told her? Matt was on his way and in less than an hour Rebekah would be staked. At least for her participation in the whole thing, he'd reward her with honesty and unburden himself in the process.

Surely this was the trap that he'd been trying to so delicately set, hoping she'd walk straight into it. It was too well placed to be anything but.

"Oh really?" she replied, sounding disinterested.

"Yes," a strange looked passed over his face, unsure of what to say next, his mouth opening as he tried, half a word coming out before he stopped, lips pressing back together.

"Out with it Stefan, your evasiveness is ruining my dance."

"About last night…"

"You want to talk about sex? Funny I don't remember us ever needing to discuss it in the past," she kicked at the balloon that had found its way between them, perhaps she should have kept it there.

"I think about it sometimes. I know you think I can't remember or that I forgot or whatever… but sometimes I do remember…." his voice dropped off at the end, as he looked around the gym, at anywhere but her.

The moment couldn't have been more trite, corsage and all, dancing and even secret confessions. The Rebekah that had survived a millennium wasn't moved in the slightest, she was in fact inwardly cringing at the sappiness of it all. But the girl that loved a little too easily, who allowed herself to continue to be used because she needed the affection, the one that thought she was in love at Gloria's Bar in 1922 that knew better now but still wanted the cure, felt something.

"I think about Theodore Roosevelt sometimes and he's been dead, according to Elijah, for at least five decades."

Stefan responded with that odd smile he'd make sometimes, that was half way between a grin and grimace. He cleared his throat, before finally looking at Rebekah, "Yes, well you didn't spend a year with Roosevelt. You weren't compelled to forget he existed."

"What is it that you are saying?"

What was it that he was saying? That he remembered? Who cared? Why did it matter now? They couldn't take back ninety lost years. He couldn't live with himself today, if he was the same person he was then. But that didn't change how he'd felt, dancing in that bar, in downtown Chicago, years ago.

"You're wrong…. I think for a while there, when were together, we cared, you and I."

It might have been a trap; Rebekah might have seen it coming, but part of her wanted to pretend that it was all true and not just another lie. Suspicious, trying to appraise his intentions, she questioned, "You mean how you care still for Elena?"

The look he tried to hide, at the mention of her name, gave him away quicker than any confession. Would the Salvatore brothers, Stefan in particular, ever stop trying to protect their pathetic little imitation of Tatia?

She would have preferred the lie at this point. Maybe she was foolish and weak. Maybe she did love too easily and often quite recklessly. But still, she'd rather trade a few moments of fake bliss than an eternity of steady truths.

Finally when he seemed to have composed himself enough to attempt a rebuttal, mouth opening, ready to spew some denial about his feelings for Elena Gilbert; Rebekah beat him to it, "Shh…"

She pulled him closer, like a real teenage girl at a high school dance, what she'd never be, and murmured, "Stop…. You'll ruin my dance."

It might have been an awkward song, she might've been wearing a cheesy Koala corsage, his leather jacket may have smelled like moth balls and heavily layered cologne and it might all be part of an elaborate ruse to get the White Oak Stake from her, but Rebekah didn't care.

Closing her eyes, she listened to the rest of U2's song and pretended for the last two minutes, on a scuffed gym floor in a dinky little southern town, that she was with someone who actually cared about her and that she wasn't just a replacement, part of an endgame, a hold over until something better came along.

She pretended that she was happy and they were still in love at Gloria's Bar.


	4. Excerpt:Klaroline 1922

Songs to listen to before: Your Heart Is As Black As Night by Melody Gardot

And absolutely this one so you get the scene: Nature Boy- Moulin Rouge

Chicago, Illinois

1922

Late, the bartender was wiping the remnants of water and soap from crystal highball glasses, turning champagne flutes upside down.

Chairs were strewn about the bar, cloth napkins on the ground. There was clattering behind the stage, as musicians packed up their instruments.

Stefan and Rebekah were nowhere in sight. Likely off in a dark corner somewhere, toying with some tipsy young girl, whose escort was too drunk to notice that she'd gone missing.

Still sitting in his booth, he swirled the dark scotch, single malt, around in his glass, its smoky flavor, settling permanently on his tongue, teasing memories from his mind. Things he wished to forget.

"Will you be needing an escort, Miss Emily?"

The green feathers that hung from the bottom of her dress swayed as the ensemble conductor followed her across the aged wooden stage.

"No George, I'll be just fine," she promised.

Looking out over the empty seats, spotting Klaus, he seemed somewhat unconvinced.

"Jimmy," she called to the bartender, "My clutch, Darling?"

Smirking, he reached under the bar, "Lovely song tonight, Pige, perhaps another?"

She stepped on the foot railing, her heels clinking against the copper, "Not tonight, Jimmy. I'm tired."

Handing her, her garment, he reached for a freshly polished glass, setting it in front of her. "Are you sure?"

From behind him, he pulled a blue crystal bottle from the top shelf: the finest bootlegged gin in the city.

Turning her head ever so slightly, she knew Klaus was there, watching her as he always did. Predatory, as if at any moment he would make a move, shifting from relaxed to violent in seconds.

"Two," he called out from his seat in her peripheral vision, draining the glass in front of him.

Rising, he slowly walked to bar, creased black plants, his starched, pressed, white shirt wilting from the excitement of the evening. She could smell his aftershave wafting towards her.

Looking to Jimmy who seemed unsure, Emily slowly shook her head, conceding.

"Fetching dress," he commented, his English accent pristine, "However, I think I preferred the one from earlier."

With two glasses set in front of them, he clinked his against hers, signaling that he was waiting for her acknowledgement- that he meant to make a toast.

Smoothing down her short blonde curls she lifted her drink and turned, giving him her focus.

"To our little song bird…" he replied, as if there were anyone else present either than the two of them, the bartender lifting crates in the back room and George still lingering on stage, dismantling music stands.

He wasted no time, throwing back the clear, minty liquid that was meant to sipped, a few glasses of it surely able to take down even the most hardened of men.

Setting his on the bar, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, almost warily before he remarked, "Shall we dance?"

The cool, tartness slipped past Emily's lips, and trickled down her throat.

It probably wasn't a good idea. She didn't dance with customers, only Stefan and that seemed like it was too long ago. But wasn't this what she was here for?

As he extended his hand, she took down the rest of her drink, gritting her back teeth to keep herself from coughing like a little girl.

Wordlessly accepting his offer, she left her clutch at the bar and allowed him to lead her onto the scuffed dance floor. Squaring his hips, as if they would waltz, his hand slid through hers, the other finding her mid back, pulling her in close but not so close as to be personal. Almost as if they were strangers.

Looking up at him, Emily wondered where they would go from here.

"There's no music," she commented, almost lamely as he stepped back, taking her with him, beginning their dance.

"Then perhaps you should provide it."

She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly going dry, "What would you like to hear?"

He stepped to the side, her body moving gently out as he slowly spun her.

"Surprise me," he murmured.

"I thought you couldn't be surprised."

"I can't but I always appreciate the effort."

They looked ridiculous. Him without his overcoat, just dark pants and white shirt, Emily's red lipstick somewhat faded from the night, the smell of tobacco, faint perfume and alcohol hanging heavily in the air.

As he pulled her back in, she made the effort to do him one better. Following his lead, she stepped much closer, her arm shifting from its formal position on his shoulder, the tips of her fingers coming to rest at the nape of his neck.

Their hips were mere millimeters from one another, leaning in so close that he could feel her breath against the collar of his shirt as she began, "There was a boy…. A very strange enchanted boy…. They say he wandered, verrry far… verrry far… ovverr land and sea."

A chill ran down Klaus's spine. His hand slipped further down, to the small of her back, the smell of her perfumed hair washed out the smoky flavor of his scotch and the mint of the gin.

"A little shy, and sad of eye. But verrryy wise, was he," his nose pressed closer to her hair, the sadness in her voice dripping out, over his ear, seeping into his skin.

"And then one day, one magic day he passed my way. And while we spoke of mannny things," her lips grazing his ear lobe, "Fools and kings, this he said to me…."

"The greatest thing…" Emily's thumb stroked the back of his hand, her fingers tracing the hairline of his neck, "You'll ever learn…. Is just to love…."

Nose brushing his cheek, her breath when she paused was warm on his face, as they made eye contact before she finished, "And be loved… in… return…."

They continued dancing like that, as if there were some imaginary trumpet player, repeating the sorrowful first two choruses over and over for minutes. Until finally, after her last turn, she stopped, not moving back into his embrace.

"Did I surprise you?"

Dropping her hand, his voice was more gentle than normal, "Yes."

She sang that song like she'd written it for him, known his entire life. He looked at her halcyon expression, blue eyes staring back and him and he saw them all: Hannah, Christine, Mary, Anne, Lyanna (oh Lyanna) and Nataline- all of it stinging and bitter in its familiarity.

But he also saw Emily and for a few brief moments, all he saw was her. Not 900 hundred years of foiled plans and mistakes, just a woman looking back at him. Simple, pure, untainted from the past that followed like a ghostly shadow.

It was beginning again. He could feel it. And he knew he should care. He should feel the cold chill of warning, creeping through his skin.

He didn't though. Klaus had learned this lesson seven times, knew for certain that this was a mistake, but he didn't care.

"I should be going," she replied, looking to the bar where her belongings waited, "I need to be getting home."

"I'll take you," he answered.

"To my apartment?"

"No… to mine."


	5. Excerpt:Silas-BC

Song **The Host of Seraphim- Lisa Gerrrad**

Before his rebellion, Lucifer sat at the hand of the father, high and exalted, next in honor to the God's dearly beloved son. When his jealousy grew of Christ's ascendency over him, Lucifer's plot to excise Christ began. As he was cast from God's inner circle, he turned from God and his loyal servants denouncing them all as slaves. In his stand he garnered support, appealing to a few select angels around him, flattering them with promises of power and succession over God and his son.

When the rebellion began the heavens were divided between those who stood loyal to God and those who sought new governance. To Lucifer they flocked as their new leader with promises of the great new wonder they would share in. When God could no longer tolerate Lucifer and his followers' insolence in heaven, a great war broke out. Angel against Angel, God's army against Lucifer's regiment, the heavens were torn apart before God prevailed and the archangel Michael threw Lucifer from heaven. As he fell in shame from his place of exultance, he took with him his followers who descended beyond the realm that would be earth and its universe.

However, before they took residence in their antiuniverse, Lucifer's minions that fell mated with those who inhabited God's world, as a final insult. Defiling those whom were made in his image, they created a subset of species that were neither angel, demon nor human. They fell beyond the spectrum of what was created in God's image and imitated by Lucifer.

The new subspecies that evolve would go by many names: fairies, witches, sirens, werewolves, shape shifters and others. It was decided that since these creatures would live amongst God's creations and were neither of heaven or hell but caught between, they could not be claimed for either side in battle for the souls of mankind. Instead each creature would choose individually. However as they survived amongst the humans, influencing all of those they came into contact with, it was proclaimed that these creatures could not be left to their own devices.

If they were to play in God's world and choose their place among the evil or the saintly, they would need a leader- no rather, a governance of their own. So it was decided between God and Lucifer that an angel should be chosen. One who was neutral in war over human souls. And that is how it came to be that Silas, as she would be known to every supernatural creature that scattered to the ends of earth's corners, would manage her new population of outsiders.

As Lucifer before her, she descended from heaven, shedding her wings as she fell. When she landed, well before the birth of Christ, the first world flood, David and her subject, Goliath, Moses and his people, she came to be feared by all those who hovered on the outskirts of mankind. Many never knew who she was for they would encounter only her army of foot soldiers, those sent out into the world to watch over her creatures. But if at some point, if those under her watchful gaze should be stupid enough to step out of line, incite a war amongst themselves, influence the humans too much or try to create a sub species of their own, then they would met Silas and her justice.

Not many survived past that first meeting.

Bkgrlrandomthoughts's version of TVD Silas in I'm Not Calling You A Liar

(Graphic done by Shadowscraving)


	6. Excerpt: Klaroline 2051

**Klaroline**

**2051 AD, New Orleans, Louisiana **

There were a million reasons why they didn't do holiday dinners together anymore. They told themselves that it was because of distance or commitments. But truly, what commitments?

Maybe it was Kol, with him gone it didn't feel right anymore; the seat that was usually vacant from his self-induced hiatuses years previous, was a different kind of empty this time, now that they knew he'd never be coming back. His bickering, cutting remarks, jabs, like white noise in the background were gone, making the atmosphere between them all that much more heavier than it had ever been before it all began or rather ended.

But Klaus knew that wasn't the real reason they didn't do holidays, birthdays or celebrations with each other any longer. Every time he saw them together, it made it impossible for him to pretend to act normal. It was different before. He hadn't known any better. He was blissfully ignorant. That nagging feeling that had itched away at him previously was now a gnawing, shredding at his every nerve ending.

It was better when they were gone. It was better when his brother was thousands of miles away, her as well. What was it that people said? Out of sight and therefore out of mind?

That was fucking lie: more like out of sight and just slightly more tolerable.

He followed her into the walk-in closet that held their coats, pretending to be searching for his own. After a minute had passed in silence and he could no longer carry on the charade that he couldn't find his in the relatively barren closet, he finally questioned, "Could I ask you something?"

She stopped, just looking up at him in response. Like she knew that something was coming, something that fell outside the parameters of regular pleasantries.

However, she didn't tell him 'no', so he greedily took that as a 'yes'.

"Are you happy?" A thousand years he'd spent trying anything to ensure he wouldn't be left, that in the end, even if it was forced, he wouldn't be alone.

The tragedy of it all was that it was never his mother, the curse, Mikael, Elijah or the hunters that he was fighting. Only himself, and he had lost: smothered in his own stupidity.

"Every day."

"Caroline," Elijah called for her from the other room. It was time, soon they'd go and he wouldn't see her again for another decade or two. At one time, when they were hunters, his hunters, he used to partially dread the next time he'd encounter his new ghost. Now he dreaded when she'd leave.

There wouldn't be another one after Caroline. She was the last, the thought made him feel even more alone.

"I really should be going…" she smiled at him, simple, no longer holding the promise it had so long ago.

He nodded his head, yes she was right. They should be going. Soon, before he said and did something he'd regret. Like the question that fell out of his mouth next, "Do you love you my brother, Caroline?"

He knew the answer was 'yes' before the word left her lips. Call him a masochist. Over a thousand years and he needed it, one last dig. The final slap, only this time it wasn't prefaced with a kiss.

The fact that it was all over and he'd never have that again, was a terrible revelation and relief each day.

"Yes."

She looked at him in a way that made him wish he could disappear. It wasn't with disgust or hatred: those things he could tolerate, almost enjoying their familiarity. It was pity, as repugnant and bitter as it ever was.

Forty years Elijah and Caroline had spent together. In their world, a decade was a day, but Klaus knew a day, a week, months or years, the damage was already done.

She was gone.

"Goodbye Klaus," she gave him a cordial parting glance.

The one thing he wouldn't tolerate from her was the charity of polite formalities. It was such a dismissal, in the cruelest of ways. As if nothing had ever passed between them. He'd do anything to get any reaction other than that.

Before she walked away- as they all did, he called to her, "Caroline…" she stopped, as he hoped she would, playing off her need to be kind to him or at the very least not rude. He took a moment before stepping towards her, both watching one another.

Later, she'd tell herself she had no inclination of what he'd planned. She'd lay awake at night, Elijah's arm wrapped around her, and she'd promise herself that she was perfectly shocked.

But she would know, as the seconds ticked away on the clock beside their bed in the early hours of morning, that she was lying to herself.

Slowly, Klaus slid his hand up her arm, stopping at her shoulder, before finally fingers reached up to trace her face, touch her cheek, as if he were making a memory of her, one he'd need for when she was gone again. There was a breath, maybe two, that passed between them before he leaned in.

She had all the time in the world to stop him and she never thought twice.

Warm, gentle and familiar_- oh,_ how everything about him felt so familiar. He kissed her like he'd been planning it all night, thinking about it for three decades, waiting for the right moment.

His nose brushed her cheek, fingers playing with the ends of her hair. His other hand tentatively resting at her side, as he traced her bottom lip, before parting it from the top, granting him access, soaking up the flavor that was Caroline

She kissed him back, hand resting against his hip, out of instinct more than thought.

The smell of him, she'd close her eyes at night with Elijah wrapped around her, kiss him in the morning, breathe deeply when she entered their closet searching for days, a week, trying to find that same smell again.

So comforting in that moment and haunting when it was gone.

"Caroline, Sweetheart…." Elijah called for her again.

As slowly as it happened, he parted from her. Taking his time, as if he knew they had plenty of it.

He licked his lips, staring down at her with disquietude, his face neither smug nor guilty.

"I need to go…."

"Sure," was all he could answer, as she turned and walked away. He should have told her that he loved her. That he'd always loved her and always would. Where ever she was, no matter whom she was with.

That was the curse in the end, the one written in fine print and signed in blood.

But he didn't say another word, he just watched her go.

A thousand years and Elijah had won the game neither had even known they'd always been playing. Only now it wasn't a game. It was horrid in its reality and bitter in its finality.

"Goodbye, Love."

… (No Klaroline is not over, tbc…)

* * *

**Song: The Scientist by Coldplay**


End file.
